


Lonely

by mothdotjpeg



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Descriptions of wounds, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Homoerotic wound tending, Injured Hannibal Lecter, Light Angst, M/M, One Shot, Post-Fall (Hannibal), Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Whump, Will swears a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:41:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28054083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mothdotjpeg/pseuds/mothdotjpeg
Summary: "Fuck, Hannibal," Will crawled his way to the other side of Hannibal, their small bathroom crowded. He sat on the edge of their tub, reaching out a hand to run through Hannibal's grey fraying hair that always sat in a state of disarray now. The older man groaned, wiping his mouth with his hand. It wasn't a pretty sight, the spit threads dripping from Hannibal's lips and the discolored gunk on the the back of his hand that didn't seem to bother him. He flushed the toilet, Will's knees bumped the toilet bowl. It smelled bad.|| Hannibal can't sleep, Will helps tend his wounds ||"Sorry." Hannibal gulped, gagged a little but overall seemed unbothered. Somehow, almost, this was nice.
Relationships: Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 5
Kudos: 149





	Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> There's mentions of blood and vomiting! It's not super detailed- but that's my warning. More notes at the end.

It had become a habit. One that Will was aware of, in his half awake state. It wasn't that he didn't notice, or worry about it, he just didn't know what to do or how to mention it. 

At first, Will had found Hannibal on the couch. Which was quite the scene itself, the FBI's Most Wanted cannibal curled on a shitty couch with only a throw blanket covering him. Will had stood and watched him sleep for a minute, wondering what he was doing and how Hannibal Lecter was asleep on a couch when he had his whole room to himself. Neither of them mentioned it when they had eaten breakfast. 

The next time was the stairs. Will had barely noticed the slumped body at the top of them as he had returned from using the bathroom at 1 am, but he double checked when he processed the figure sitting there. Hannibal, head against the wall staring at the ceiling, body half falling off the stair he was sitting on. What was he doing?

It had lasted like that for a month, the kitchen floor, the study chair, the porch. Will saw the dark circles under Hannibal's eyes, it was unbecoming on the older man. On occasion, he would try to broach the apparent tiredness but Hannibal would ignore it in favor of Will's nightmares. He was healing slowly, Will was tired of Campbell's soup. 

It started getting on Will's nerves when he moved to watching Will sleep. Leaning against his open doorframe and yawning silently, just observing him. Will didn't exactly care, he was too tired too. Hannibal's presence was settling and safe, his insomnia wasn't. 

But it was a few months into this, after a long night of Hannibal struggling to stand, that Will finally said something.

"I preferred it when you slept on the couch." Hannibal startled, Will laying unmoving in his bed. The alarm clock next to Will stated the time, 3:34 am. There was unease in the air.

"Sorry, William." Will groaned and sat up to look at the man in his doorway. He did look apologetic, as apologetic as he was capable, but his shaking body made Will nervous.

"No, sorry," He sighed, "It doesn't bother me usually." Hannibal crossed his arms tighter and looked at the floor, defeated. Like he was a child caught staying up past bedtime. Will watched him think over his words.

"How long have you known?" It was defensive, which made Will feel guilty for catching him in the act.

"Since you started." Hannibal sighed and looked from his feet to the ceiling, mouthing some Lithuanian curse to himself. "It's hard to hide shit from each other, Hannibal." Will wanted to reassure Hannibal but he was unsure how or why, he barely knew what was wrong. Hannibal didn't move or look at Will, mulling over his thoughts. 

"Hey, I've dealt with plenty of sleepless nights too." He tried but Hannibal just laughed, making Will look at him quizzically. 

"I was your psychiatrist, I know your bad sleeping habits." Will shook his head sheepishly, but didn't look away from Hannibal. They sat in silence as Will tried to formulate something to say, his tired brain still crawling to life. 

"What's wrong, Hannibal?" Another sigh, his body shifting as if to go back to his room. There was a moment Will was going to protest, but Hannibal's body wasn't forgiving anymore and he had to catch himself as he shivered with obvious nausea. 

"I should go back to bed," He said it like a fact, a given in this moment, as he struggled to move. Will wanted to tell him to stop being stupid, to just say what was wrong like a fucking adult, but instead he sighed and dragged himself out of bed. 

"No." Hannibal looked offended at his words as Will made his way over to the doorway, holding out a hand. 

"I'm not allowed to sleep?" He sounded tired like rain water, his eyes pleading for some relief but there was a lie in his voice. 

"You won't go to sleep if you go to your room, not to mention you can barely walk." He wanted to reach out to support Hannibal, but he kept the distance. They both hated the weakness and illness that plagued the cannibal, the monster at bay as he tried to support himself. "Hannibal, here," Will's eyes asked permission as he wrapped an arm around Hannibal's waist and dragged him across his bedroom. They rarely intruded on each other spaces, but Hannibal had watched Will during the evenings long enough that he was familiar with the space and Will didn't feel weird to see his body in the small bedroom he called his own. Neither would admit that they hated the separate rooms, although tonight could be a night of explanations. Maybe just sleep first though. 

"There." Will moved his pillows to allow Hannibal to sit up gently and he stepped back to see the older man on his bed, body stiff and unrelaxed. It was awkward, just for a second, before Will realized they didn't need excuses or reasons. So he moved to settle of the other side of his bed next to Hannibal, grateful for once that his bed was big enough for two. It didn't feel despairingly lonely now. "Now. What's wrong?" Hannibal closed his eyes and sighed.

"I can get into bed by myself." He said defensively and Will almost shoved him off the bed. 

"I would beg to disagree." Hannibal stretched to try to be more comfortable, Will liked looking at his movements. Human. "Why can't you sleep?" 

"Why can't you?" Will rolled his eyes at the avoidance coming from his friend. It didn't suit him. 

"If I'm honest, will you be?" Hannibal turned his face to look up at Will's, eyes hesitant. 

"It's not like you can't guess why." His gaze was sturdy, unlike his shaking body. 

"Well I have nightmares and you have an unhealed gunshot wound, we both have our excuses." The bed felt weirdly bigger, as if there was too much space between them. Will didn't move, Hannibal couldn't. 

"It's not just the pain." His voice was soft and gentle, simple words. Simple feelings, Will watched his face carefully. 

"Just as how mine is not just nightmares." The words stay in the air. Like they were waiting at a bus stop, but the bus never came. Will moved closer, watching carefully as if Hannibal was breakable. Maybe he was. Fragile like a teacup, Will didn't want this one to break. He reached out a hand and put it on Hannibal's stomach, feeling the muscles tense under his gentle grip. There was trust in the way Hannibal didn't flinch, just closed his eyes and held his breath. 

"What do you need?" Hannibal didn't open his eyes, didn't relax, but Will felt his chest constrict as if he was... The sounds were silent, the movement of his chest unnoticeable unless your hand was placed on his stomach and you were watching him so carefully. It was weird to witness, Will couldn't bother to feel the uncomfortable as he reached his hand to Hannibal's face. "Hannibal, you can talk to me." It sounded stupid, but Hannibal opened his eyes and gasp, the tears finding their way to his cheeks and down his face. It was pretty, in its own way. In a way that made Will want to strangle whatever was causing this pain, literal or figurative. 

"Will, I..." Will's thumb caught on Hannibal's lip as he absentmindedly wiped the tears from his face. He paused, retracting his hand but not looking away from Hannibal. "I feel like a neglected vase, stuck in a museum never to hold flowers or water. Empty and unfulfilled, never touched or enjoyed or respected." His voice was thick with tears, shame in his maroon eyes as he looked away from Will. "I feel..." 

"Lonely?" Will helped as he get Hannibal's voice catching again, unsure and unable to get his point across. 

"Very." It was a rarity, for the once eccentric Lithuanian man to admit his weakness. He knew that, he knew what the silence had held and he had stayed away and it had probably hurt Hannibal more than if he just asked what the fuck was wrong months ago. Will sighed, realizing he couldn't blame himself for this. How could he comfort this hurting man when he was dealing with the same hurt? 

"You don't have to understand-" Hannibal flicked his gaze away from Will, trying to collect himself. Trying not to feel so extremely helpless sitting in his dear Will's bed at ungodly hours of the morning being a bother to the one person he was trying so hard to keep around. 

"You assume I don't, but you know I do." They were living with ghosts and neither of them could handle the coldness of each other. They needed life and comfort. All they were able to give each other was awkward eye contact and silence. 

"You don't." Hannibal snapped, keeping his eyes from Will as he felt the sob choke in the back of his throat. It hurt, his body hurt and he couldn't even bring himself to tell the one person he loved. Will knew, in the knowing that they lived with. They had grown used to. But he didn't wanna overstep or mess up or ruin what already felt so fragile.

"Hannibal," He spoke his name with such weight, heavy as the unspoken words on the other man's tongue or the bags under his eyes. They were heavy. It was hard to make light of their feelings, the ones that remained unspoken. "Please, look at me." Will never asked, never stepped, he nodded and agreed and stayed his distance. Hannibal did the same, maybe from guilt he felt for their past. Probably not, Will didn't care that he didn't feel guilty. It was the past. It didn't matter. There was guilt is his eyes now as he gulped and looked at Will, shaking and broken. Will almost felt hopeless looking at him. There was nothing more he wanted to do than hold and comfort and love this man. The FBI's assumed dead cannibal, this person who understood him most. He needed to make sure he was okay. So he begged.

"Will," He didn't look away as he spoke, steady and calm though there weren't tearing running down his cheeks and his throat wasn't clogged with mucus. They were so cold as Will once again wiped them off his cheek, running his thumb over Hannibal's temple and into his hair as he moved closer. Closest they had purposely been in months. Will had tried to argue that he could help Hannibal with his wounds but Hannibal said as soon as he was able to do it himself that's what he wanted. So Will had politely given him the space. Resentment for his choices filled Will's stomach but he gulped them down. This wasn't about him, really. Hannibal didn't dare look away from him as he spoke again, calm and soft and sure as though this was normal and fine. Will had tried that. Tried to be calm and collected and it never worked out in the end. 

"I need to throw up. Am I allowed to leave this bed?" Sarcasm in his voice but his face was serious. Will could almost laugh but he didn't, moving quickly to try to help up Hannibal. He merely shrugged Will off as he trudged to the bathroom, knowing the other man was following. 4 am wasn't his time to shine, as he curled over the toilet and avoided Will's gaze. 

"Fuck, Hannibal," Will crawled his way to the other side of Hannibal, their small bathroom crowded. He sat on the edge of their tub, reaching out a hand to run through Hannibal's grey fraying hair that always sat in a state of disarray now. The older man groaned, wiping his mouth with his hand. It wasn't a pretty sight, the spit threads dripping from Hannibal's lips and the discolored gunk on the the back of his hand that didn't seem to bother him. He flushed the toilet, Will's knees bumped the toilet bowl. It smelled bad. 

"Sorry." Hannibal gulped, gagged a little but overall seemed unbothered. Somehow, almost, this was nice. The silence didn't feel lonely, their bodies were close, hands in hair, eyes locked. 

"You don't get to apologize, Hannibal. I'm sorry, I should've known and helped and I'm sorry." Will felt Hannibal lean into his touch, combing his hair slowly. "Here," He moved, drawing the cannibal's shaking aching body the few inches from the toilet to inbetween his legs, nestling him closer so his head laid in his lap. It probably wasn't the most comfortable, his legs sprawled beneath him and arms curled into his chest as his body screamed for relief. But it was warm, and Will could get both his hands into that hair and his body started to relax. More than it had in Will's bed. 

"You didn't know," Hannibal grunted, turning his head so his face was pressed into Will's thigh, blocking the dull bathroom light. 

"I should've asked, you were hurting." They stayed like that for awhile, almost so long Will was worried Hannibal had drifted off. Soft grunts and aching groans, eventually Hannibal pressed one of his hands up and took Will's hand out of his hair. He flinched back, worried he had overstepped. 

"I'm bleeding." How could he remain his goddamn composure? Will shifted, lifting Hannibal from his lap into a more upright position to look him up and down. Without asking, knowing he didn't need too, he pushed Hannibal's bathrobe away from his chest to unwrap his shaking body. He hadn't seen the wound since the days on the boat, since he was the only one who could redress the bandaging. 

"Shit," For a doctor, Hannibal looked horrible. The wound was puffy and leaking, the bandages had pealed off when the robe was moved and Will could see the pink raw skin. "Hannibal," His voice trailed off, moving off the tub to kneel in front of his friend. "Fuck man, okay," Slowly, his eyes asking permission, he pulled the bathrobe off his body, tossing it to the floor. Hannibal shook, watching Will's hands carefully. "You should learn to ask for some fucking help, this could be bad." Will started to ramble as he got up to find their first aid equipment. "I know you were a goddamn surgeon but you almost fucking died out there and, hell so did I, but if you aren't healing you can't expect me to never learn. I know you're a big bad unstoppable serial killer but Hannibal, you can still fucking die from infection. Especially while running from the law-" He returned from their medicine cabinet with hydrogen peroxide, bandages, and a bottle of aloe vera. If he believed in God, he thanked Him for that gas station stop on their car-trip to this house. "Lay down." Hannibal listened without protest, turning so he could lean against the tub as Will settled, straddling Hannibal's legs as he poured the hydrogen peroxide onto a hand towel. He didn't watch Hannibal's face as he leaned down and starting dabbing the puffy wound, feeling the other man's body tense but then relax into the feeling. Once the blood and puss was momentarily gone, Will squirted some aloe vera onto his hand. He had bought this in hopes of soothing sunburns in the summer heat of Cuba, but he should've known he'd gotten ahead of himself. 

"This will sting, but it doesn't look like anything needs stitches so I'm assuming it won't-" Hannibal hissed as Will slathered the red skin with the green goop. His body writhed for a second, back arching, stomach tensing, those maroon eyes squeezed close, hands grabbed at Will. His hands dug into Will's waist, bunching the shirt and scratching his skin underneath with his sharp nails. Will let out a painful laugh, his hand stilled where it laid on Hannibal's stomach. 

"Fuck." Hannibal cursed as his body relaxed, hands easing up on Will's waist but not moving as he leaned his head back on the edge of tub. His eyes opened and darted to where Will was settled on his legs to the ceiling. 

"Sorry," Will whispered, his non-aloe covered hand coming up to Hannibal's neck, thumb tracing over his jawline which was stubbly. Weird for the older man. 

"You know what would help the pain?" Humor intertwined in his pained voice, low and husky. Will watched his face as he spoke, hand sticky where it held Hannibal by his weak spot. 

"What?" Will asked, hopeful that they could make this somewhat easier. He would do anything to comfort this injured man, anything.

"This," It wasn't swift, as he moved to prop himself up on one arm, eyes flicking from Will's eyes to his lips for just a second before the hand resting on Hannibal's neck helped by pulling him in. 

"Hmph," Will grunted into the kiss, holding onto Hannibal with all his strength. It was gross, the taste of blood and stomach bile in the other man's mouth. Chapped lips, and clawing hands holding onto each other for support. It reminded Will of the cliff, the clawing bloody touches. That time was glorious, black in the moonlight, beautiful. This time was dirty and messy and they were in the middle of their bathroom but this time they were kissing and Will didn't want to stop. Hannibal was the one to draw back and grin at Will, licking his jagged teeth and spit covered lips, as if he wanted to taste Will. They both knew he did. 

"Oh yeah? Did that fucking help?" Will pushed Hannibal back against the tub so he didn't have to support himself, and shifted so his hand could smooth the aloe into his skin as he crowded Hannibal's face with his own. He kissed Hannibal this time, his hand moving from his neck to his bare chest and side, gently soothing his healthy skin as his other hand rubbed the aloe in. Hannibal would shift and twitch when it slung, but when he drew back again Hannibal's eyes looked cloudy and lost in Will. He laughed, turning to wipe his hand off on a towel and grabbing the bandages. Neither of them thought about the fact it was the first time, their first time. It didn't matter. It was silent as Will taped the gauzes to Hannibal's wound, patting it one last time to make sure it was secure as he looked back up at Hannibal. His eyes were closed again, breathing slowing. Will leaned down, pressed a kiss to the bandages and crawled off Hannibal's lap. 

"All done?" Hannibal blinked awake and sat up, hand resting on his wound and groaning. 

"For the fucking moment." Will threw the bathrobe to Hannibal as he cleaned up the bloody towel and put everything away. He retrieved a bottle of Advil, and turned back to see Hannibal sitting defeated, wrapped in his robe. 

"Did you always swear this much?" He joked as he looked up to meet Will's gaze. Will shook his head, helping heave Hannibal up onto his feet and letting the man lean on him. 

"You're sleeping in my bed tonight," Will dragged Hannibal into his room and got him into the bed like he had been earlier. "And probably for the rest of time." Hannibal rolled his eyes and Will pointed a random finger at him, tapped his head, obviously remembering something, and disappeared out of the room. He returned with a cup of water, placing it down with the Advil on the bedside table. "You're not allowed to pull this shit again, okay?" He watched Hannibal take the Advil, gulp down half the cup of water, and finally seemed satisfied to sit down in his own bed. "Okay?" Absentmindedly, he rested a hand on Hannibal's leg, moving so their bodies were touching. 

"Okay." Hannibal nodded, watching Will's face carefully. They were silent for awhile, just looking at each other. 

"This is why you haven't been sleeping?" Will asked, tilting his head at Hannibal as he spoke. He wasn't one to drop a subject, Hannibal grunted. 

"The pain is lonely. Another ache added to the mix. But, it would be a lie to say my bed didn't feel hopelessly empty." Will curled onto Hannibal's uninjured side, laughing as he pressed his face into the other man's chest, tangling their legs. 

"Well, you won't be lonely anymore."

**Author's Note:**

> Been working on this for awhile but finally got the inspo to finish it. Shoutout to @asightea (on ao3 and tumblr) for suggesting an Injured!Hannibal fic i loved writing this. Thanks for reading ;)


End file.
